


Passionfruit

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Fulfilling my hell agenda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:59:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Phil and PJ have always fit like a glove.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is a joke? kinda

Meeting Pj had never been part of Phil’s plan. 

He was a washed up film student, a senior in college with no steady job and no idea what the future would hold. Getting a degree in film had seemed perfect, but it turned out to be more about writing papers than actually making his ideas into something tangible. 

Four years into it, Phil wasn’t even sure if he wanted the degree. All the passion that he had felt for film when he was eighteen had been sucked up by deadlines and lectures. 

Ideas used to crowd around his head, vying for attention, but after four years Phil could sit down for hours and not have a single one. 

It was a lazy Sunday in December when Phil first caught sight of Pj. Phil was walking across campus, his term paper tucked under his arm and a coat wrapped tightly around his shoulders, when a loud clap had caught his attention. 

Some boy, a freshman by the looks of it, was filming something with a couple of friends. It was chaotic--nobody seemed to know what they were doing--but Phil recognized that same joy and raw passion that he himself had felt when he was nineteen. 

Phil had sat down on a bench by the edge of the courtyard, and for the rest of the day he watched as the boy filmed what looked to be the weirdest movie that Phil had ever seen. 

As the sun dropped lower in the sky, the boy turned around and approached Phil, grinning wildly. 

“Hey, I’m Pj!”

Phil paused for a second to take in the boy’s appearance before he spoke. 

He was tall, with wild curls and bright green eyes. His coat looked homemade, with multicolored patches all over it. 

“Hi, I’m Phil.”

Somehow, sitting on a bench as the sun set over the blocky buildings of the college, Phil had had the most profound conversation of his life. 

Pj talked about anything and everything under the sun, hounding Phil about the ins and outs of his film degree and telling him about all of the visions that he had for short movies. Before he ran away with his tiny camera and eccentric jacket, he scribbled his phone number on Phil’s right arm with a dark green pen. 

Luckily, Phil was intrigued enough to call him. 

Over the next year, Pj managed to revive all of Phil’s creativity. His boundless energy and seemingly endless visions rubbed off on the older boy, until they could sit on Phil’s ratty couch for hours and never stop conversing about their next project. 

Phil graduated, renting a surprisingly cheap apartment near PJ’s dorm. On days where Pj didn’t have class, he would drop by Phil’s apartment without notice and help the older boy cook. 

Pj’s roommate was lucky―Pj barely ever slept in his dorm, and most of his stuff was scattered around Phil’s apartment. 

Many nights were spent at the small table in the den, Pj regaling Phil with all his latest ideas while Phil furiously typed out movie reviews. Pj had helped him make his own blog, which was surprisingly getting a lot of traffic. Phil had even paid all of last month’s rent with his earnings. 

It had seemed like natural progression when Phil kissed Pj goodbye instead of waving, something that they never even had to talk about. Everything between the two boys fit like a puzzle. Even their arguments ended in laughter and a half-burnt stir fry―Pj insisted that he didn’t need the recipe. 

Phil was in the front row at Pj’s graduation, giving him a huge bear hug and knocking his cap off as soon as he walked off stage. 

Pj moved into Phil’s apartment, bringing multicolored lamps and themed pillows to fill up all the space that he hadn’t already. 

And soon after that, their nights were spent crowded around Phil’s laptop looking at property websites, trying to find the perfect house for two. 

Phil had been approached by three separate talent agencies about his blog, but decided he wanted it to be his and only his. 

Well, his and Pj’s, who had been spending long days filming his longest project yet all over the city. 

Six years after Phil moved into his first apartment, he and his boyfriend were locking up for the last time. They had decided to move to Brighton, as Pj had always been in love with the sea. They sat in the back of the moving truck on their trustworthy couch, Phil leaning into Pj’s shoulders as the brunet edited his masterpiece. 

The house in Brighton had huge windows that overlooked the sea, and a master bedroom with so many houseplants that the bed was almost hidden.

A year after they moved in, they returned to the house with a ball of fluff who Pj insisted should be called Zelda. (Phil compromised, but still insists that he can’t make good decisions while looking into Pj’s eyes). 

-

It was a Saturday morning, and the sun shone through the windows with all its might. Phil’s arms were wrapped around Pj’s back, and the taller boy was curled into his chest. The ceiling fan whirled around as Phil slowly opened his eyes, sighing and relaxing into his boyfriend. 

Phil not-so-secretly loves the days that he wakes up first, the days where he can wrap Pj’s curls around his fingers and press soft kisses to his sleepy eyelids. 

Unfortunately, the soft peace of the morning is broken when Zelda leaps up onto the bed and burrows her way in between the boys. 

PJ wakes up with an almost inaudible gasp, and laughs quietly when he sees the surprised expression on Phil’s face. 

“Good morning, Zelda,” Pj murmurs, his morning voice low and grainy.

Phil shoves him playfully. “Good morning to the dog and not your boyfriend?”  
PJ laughs, giving Phil a quick kiss and settling back down into his pillow. 

“Ew, morning breath!”  
“...You asked for it!”

It takes the boys a little over an hour to drag themselves out of bed, brushing their teeth and bumping elbows on purpose. 

Pj pours them cereal and they eat at the breakfast bar, staring out at the sea. Zelda darts around their feet until Phil throws her a soggy cornflake, accidentally splattering milk across the counter. 

The morning is spent at the pier at Pj’s insistence. Ever since they had moved in, Pj’s life mission had become beating the impossibly high top score on the pinball machine. Phil licks a popsicle and watches the longboarders, giggling when Pj whacks the side of the machine in frustration. 

Finally, Pj grabs Phil’s hand and drags him down onto the beach. They sit down on the sand, watching the waves and the sun as it rises in the sky. 

Pj gets up to go the bathroom, and when he comes back his eyes are lit up with a look in his eyes that Phil immediately recognizes. He definitely has a plan, and there’s no way that Phil is getting out of it. 

“Phil, guess what I saw!”  
“What?”  
“We can rent longboards right down the beach!” Pj’s excitement reminds Phil of Zelda when he drops a crumb. And not unlike the dog, as soon as Pj starts begging, Phil will give in. 

“And you want to rent them?”  
“Yes! Try new things, remember?”

Phil allows himself to be pulled up, rolling his eyes and masking a smile behind a shake of his head. He half walks, half jogs down the beach after Pj, recognizing a blue stand with longboards stacked outside. 

Pj rents two longboards, insisting that they don’t need a lesson, and soon Phil is following his boyfriend back onto the boardwalk. 

“We’re not doing it here!” Phil hisses quietly, motioning to the crowds of people that walk up and down the wooden walkway.  
“We’re longboarding, not fucking,” Pj jokes, and Phil hits him on the arm.  
“I meant I don’t want to crash into a child and send them falling off the boardwalk!”  
“Alright,” Pj snorts, leading Phil off of the pier and onto the street beyond. 

Pj, forced to go first by Phil, gets on his board and immediately cruises down the street. He hops off with little effort, waving for Phil to come join him. 

Phil, with little coordination, wobbles down the (luckily flat) road, finally falling on his ass in the middle of the street. 

“Jesus, Phil!” He hears Pj call, and before he can even stand up he feels arms wrap around his torso. 

“You okay?”  
“I think so… How are you so good at this?!”  
“Used to longboard all the time as a kid,” Pj grins, holding out Phil’s board to him. “Want a lesson?”  
“You should’ve offered in the first place! You just wanted to see me fall…”

Pj laughs, his nose crinkling and eyes squinting. 

He helps Phil get back on the longboard, placing Phil’s hand on his shoulder so that he stays stable. 

They hold hands as they coast slowly down the street, Phil’s torso rocking back and forth and hands grabbing at Pj’s shirt. 

After a while, Phil tries on his own, riding down the street for a good couple minutes before toppling off and knocking into Pj. They collapse into the grass together, boards falling over, and Pj laughs at Phil’s blushing face. 

“I’m so bad at this…” Phil murmurs, tucking his head into Pj’s chest.  
“Practice makes perfect!”  
“Don’t even think about-”  
“Do you think I could still stay on if I was carrying you?”

They try―Pj definitely can’t. 

As the day goes on and gets hotter, Phil gradually gets more and more stable, until he’s sure that he could be as good as Pj if he actually tried. 

(Honestly, who can blame him for not trying when Pj holds his hands and kisses all his scrapes?)

The sun begins to set, and the boys walk down the beach to return their boards. 

As the sky gets paler and colors stain the horizon, Phil and Pj make their way to their favorite spot on the beach; under the boardwalk and right next to the sea. 

“Can we watch a movie tonight?” Pj asks, his voice softer as the sun sets more.  
“Yeah,” Phil replies, sleepily reaching out to grab Pj’s hands. 

They lean against each other, sand getting everywhere, and watch the sky turn orange, then dark blue, then black. 

As they begin to walk home, the stars come out of hiding and paint the night sky. 

Their joint hands swing back and forth, the silence in the air comfortable and sweet. 

Pj unlocks the door, and Zelda greets them on her hind legs with little yips and barks that fill up the whole house. 

“Did you miss us?” Phil asks, leaning down and letting the dog jump all over him, licking his hands and face with vigor. 

Pj gets out the dog food, filling up her bowl, and Phil goes into the den to set up the television. He decides to put on The Shining, one of his and Pj’s favorite classics. 

The moon hangs itself up in the sky and illuminates the room in a silver glow. The boys cuddle up on the couch with a couple glasses of wine, smiling into each other’s stained lips as scenes that they’ve seen thousands of times play on the screen behind them. 

The movie plays on, but Phil and Pj don’t pay much attention. Phil is absolutely hypnotized by Pj’s eyes, which seem to glow softly in the dark. 

Pj sits up on the side of the couch, Phil’s legs wrapped around him. 

He giggles, wine glass in his hand, and leans down to kiss Pj square on the lips. Pj’s hands find Phil’s neck, and he chases Phil’s lips with his own. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice husky and low.  
“Hmm?” Phil asks.

“I have some news… I was waiting to tell you, but now seems like a good time?”  
“Go ahead…”  
“You know my movie?”

Phil giggles. “You mean the one you’ve been working on nonstop for three years?”  
“--Yeah, that would be the one.”  
“What about it?”  
“It, um… Got into Sundance. I just found out last night…”

Pj sounds unsure, but Phil’s eyes immediately light up at the news. He’s seen how much work Pj has put into this film; he’s brought Pj food while he was editing, listened to countless hours of rambling, and tucked Pj in when he fell asleep at his computer composing the score. 

And it goes beyond those three years--even the day that the two met, PJ was working on an aspect of the film. And before that, even before he began applying to college, the idea had been swimming around in his head. 

Phil immediately puts his wine glass down, gripping Pj’s jaw and pulling him in. 

Their foreheads rest close together, wine on their breath and love on their lips, as Phil slowly undoes the buttons on Pj’s button-down. 

His eyes sparkle, smiling up at Phil. His hands unclasp from Phil’s neck, moving to his chest and pushing Phil lightly down onto the couch. 

Pj’s head ducks into Phil’s neck, sucking little bruises and taking a break to pull the older boy’s shirt over his head before reattaching his lips to Phil’s collarbones. 

Pj sits up, his hands wandering around Phil’s chest as the other boy stares up at him lovingly. His curls are lit up from behind by a soft pink jigglypuff lamp, and Phil swears that he has never seen anything more beautiful in his whole life. 

“Stop teasing and kiss me,” Phil drawls, leaning up to run his hands along the curves of Pj’s back.  
“Bossy…” Pj mutters jokingly, but leans down and kisses Phil all the same. 

Phil’s hands make quick work of Pj’s zipper, and he tugs insistently on the waistline of his jeans as he bites at Pj’s lip. 

Pj laughs lightly, pushing Phil down slowly to suck and bite at his stomach. 

“Ohh,” Phil gasps lightly.  
“You like it when I tease you, hmm?” Pj says, nails ghosting lightly over Phil’s chest.  
“Fuck you,” Phil replies shortly, trying to stifle his moans and even out his breath.  
“Ask politely,” Pj snorts triumphantly, as if his joke hasn’t already been made a thousand times. 

Phil shakes his head, a hazy smile on his face. 

Pj sits back, his hands moving to Phil’s forehead and pushing his hair back. He begins to move his hips subtly, just enough to create friction, and Phil’s eyes stay transfixed on him. 

Phil grinds up into Pj, lazy and erratic, but the brunet doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Your skin?” Phil breathes out, like he’s asking a question. 

Pj starts humming the music that he’s dancing to in his head, and Phil tries to hum along, his voice slipping from note to note without pausing. For some reason, they seem to agree on the same melody. 

Finally, having had enough of grinding and singing, Phil sits up and presses Pj against the side of the couch, slithering up his chest and tangling a hand in his hair. 

Phil crawls into his lap, beaming and shining. He moves his hands down and pulls at Pj’s jeans, tugging them until they pile at his thighs. 

Pj’s hands move to Phil’s belt, and both boys pull at fabric until their pants join their shirts in crumpled piles on the floor. 

The boys don’t speak for a second, just looking at each other. 

Sometimes, Phil forgets exactly how much Pj means to him. Meeting this boy in a college courtyard completely changed his life; Pj exuded passion and love and made sure that Phil felt it too.

Naked and shining in the lowlight, Pj looks like an angel. Phil feels tears pricking at his eyes as he sinks into Pj’s chest and bites at his collarbone. 

Phil’s arms move from being loosely wrapped around Pj’s waist to slowly palming him through his boxers. 

“Hmm, I want you so much...” Phil whispers. Pj chuckles, his hands dancing across Phil’s back. 

PJ moves his hands to cup Phil’s ass as he pulls his boxers down and slowly strokes his dick. 

One of Phil’s arms moves to the drawer next to the couch, and he pulls out the bottle of lube that they keep there for these situations. 

“Everything good?” Phil asks, raising his eyes to look at Pj’s as he begins to loosely grind down on him.  
“Yeah, ‘course…”

Memories of Pj’s fluttery eyelashes and head thrown back on the pillows cloud Phil’s brain for a second, making him blush a little and smile. 

Phil tilts Pj’s chin back and nips at his neck. 

“I just wantーyou… I want you to…” He pulls back, blushing a little bit, and Pj grunts lightly. 

“You want me to what?” Pj prompts, and Phil leans in closer as he replies.  
“I just want you to fill me up, Pj, and I want you to do it as quick as possible.”

Pj trips over his breath, eyes finding Phil’s and trapping them in his gaze. 

“Please…” Phil breathes, so quietly, and Pj groans deeply. 

Flipping him over and hovering over his chest, Pj jerks Phil off with slow thrusts and whispers his name in his ear. 

Hearing a bottle open, Pj flutters his eyes open, and sees Phil pouring lube over his own fingers. The brunet’s hips, confused at the loss of Pj’s hands on them, buck up, and he looks at Pj confusedly. 

“Don’t let me stop you,” Pj says, his eyes filled with wonder as Phil moves out from under him and flips himself onto his side. 

Phil sits on a pillow, slightly above Pj, and the world feels like it has been dusted in gold. 

Phil starts fingering himself, his eyes squeezing shut and a line of obscenities slithering out of his mouth. He adds another finger, bringing the other hand up to stroke his dick. 

He’s panting, moaning, and Pj moves closer, eyes wide and dick throbbing. 

Pj pulls Phil’s hands away, replacing them with his own. 

Phil hums, grinding down into his fingers and then up into Pj’s. His face is screwed up in concentration as he adds another finger, and Pj moans softly.

“Pj, will you?”  
“Will I?”  
“Will you fuck me, please?” Phil asks almost nonchalantly, and Pj nods quickly before realizing that Phil can’t see him through closed eyes.  
“Yes,” he whispers, and Phil’s eyes pop open as he reattaches their lips for a couple seconds. 

Phil turns over, and Pj pours lube all over his dick, leaning down and letting Phil grab fistfulls of his hair. He positions his body with Phil’s, and slowly, surely, pushes in. 

Every single time they do this, Pj feels like they’ve somehow left earth and are floating through space. Phil’s moans go unnoticed as Pj expertly moves his hips, in love with the feeling of Phil all around him. 

Pj pulls all the way out, then pushes back in, placing Phil’s hands on his back so that they scratch down it and leave the red marks that Pj adores. 

“Phil...” Pj’s breathy moans are small and almost silent, but Phil couldn’t miss them if he tried. 

People say that a voice is the first thing you forget about a person, but Phil swears that Pj’s voice swirls around his head even when he isn’t speaking. 

Pj’s voice was always the most soothing thing to Phil. Back when they were broke college students, back when Phil was unsure about his next paycheck or next exam, he would call Pj just to hear his voice. It was the only thing that could always put Phil at ease. 

Phil would swear that Pj’s voice moved all the mountains inside of him. It was, is, a sweet song, a secret melody. Their friends have told Phil that Pj’s tones change when he speaks to Phil. 

Knowing that he might be the only one to ever hear the exact voice that Pj uses for him makes Phil feel inexplicably light inside.

Pj’s eyes are closed, thrusting in and out of Phil slowly. His body glistens with sweat, and he grips at whatever purchase he can find. 

Phil’s eyelashes flutter as he swallows thickly. He reaches his hands up to claw at Pj’s back, bucking into him and biting at any exposed flesh he can see. He knows how much Pj likes it when he leaves him marks. 

“Faster, Peej, please….”

Pj starts moving his hips with more speed, thrusting deeper. His eyes are wide, staring at the gorgeous boy underneath him. 

Phil calls his name loudly, then whispers it slowly, clenching his muscles around Pj and making the younger boy moan obscenely. 

Phil blushes at Pj’s noises despite having done this exact thing a thousand times. 

Pj thrusts in again, going as deep as he can. Phil freezes, then turns and cries out, almost screaming in pleasure. 

“Pj, please don’t stop, right there,” he whines, and Pj obliges. 

Phil moves and collides their lips together, making Pj “mmph” in surprise. But he kisses back, moving his lips in time with his hips, and watches Phil come undone below him. 

Phil all but falls back onto the mattress, his body shuddering and his eyelids drooping over his eyes. 

Pj keeps thrusting, moving in and out, faster and deeper and always hitting that spot. 

“Peej, I’m一I’m so close, shit,” Phil chokes out. 

“Me too,” Pj moans.

Phil blushes, smiling slightly as he nods. Pj moans again as Phil scrapes his fingernails up and down Pj’s chest and kisses him clumsily. 

Pj ploughs into Phil one more time, angling his hips to ensure he hits just the right spot. 

And he does. 

Phil sighs deeply, shuddering as he comes all over their chests. His breath hitches, his body shivers, and his eyes almost roll back into his head. 

Pj pulls out and follows quickly, groaning as he sinks into Phil’s chest and pants in his ear. 

Their chests move up and down in time, and after a while they sit up. 

Pj wraps himself up in Phil’s arms, rubbing his nose against Phil’s and kissing him lightly. 

“Hi,” Pj giggles.  
“I’m so proud of you,” Phil replies, smiling as Pj ducks into his chest. 

In the background, Jack Nicholson screams, and both boys jump before realizing that the movie is still playing. 

Phil laughs, his eyes lit up, and bends down to grab his shirt. 

Zelda jumps up on the couch, lying down on a pillow, and Pj pets her absentmindedly as Phil shuts the television off. 

-

Months later, dressed in a casual suit and a huge smile, Phil watches his boyfriend introduce the movie that he’s been working on for longer than he can remember. 

“Home” is half an hour long and one of the most creative things that Phil has ever seen. It’s about a boy, played by Pj, who is lost in space and trying to find a place to settle down. 

He recognizes the courtyard where he and Peej first spoke, Pj’s old dorm and their old apartment, the campus and the city. It will always be incredible to Phil how Pj takes something as normal as a living room and turns it into something remarkable; a planet. 

Pj sees things that others cannot. Maybe that’s why he came up to Phil that cold Sunday and decided there was more to him than met the eye. 

The last planet that Pj’s tinfoil rocketship lands on is one of light and laughter. Instead of the usual voiceover explaining exactly what Pj finds in this new world, Phil hears his own voice. 

He’s saying something unremarkable―talking about cereal and the dog, about how he woke up and got jumpscared by the moon. 

There is laughter, a barking noise, and onscreen Pj gets out of his rocket and walks into the distance until his figure cannot be seen. 

The screen goes black and the credits begin to roll as the whole audience breaks out in applause. Phil turns to Pj with tears in his eyes, hugging him close and holding him tightly. 

Above the chaos of the crowd, Phil leans down and whispers into Pj’s ear. 

“You’re my home too.”


End file.
